After the Fire
by SilverFoxFiles
Summary: Two Marines come together after the bombings in Beirut. Comfort turns into a lifetime relationship. First story in our Firestorm Universe. NCIS/CSI:NY Crossover. Jethro Gibbs/Mac Taylor


Hello!

This is the first story in our epic Firestorms Universe. We started imagining today's Jethro Gibbs with someone from his past, someone he couldn't even drive away or get out of his system. The natural choice for us was Mac Taylor from CSI: New York.

Since this universe is only based on the characters we know and love, don't expect them to be the same guys you see on your screen every week. Their experiences shaped them to be similar in some capacities and very different in others.

Eventually, other characters from NCIS, CSI: New York, and a couple from CSI: Miami will be introduced but for now, in the early days, this will be the telling of Mac and Jethro's relationship.

We've taken a couple of liberties with our AU at the outset. Mac and Jethro never served together as far as we know, and while they may be the same age, the shows have never told us that. For the purposes of our universe, they were both born in 1963. Mac grew up in Chicago, Jethro grew up in West Virginia, and they just met when they started serving together. Mac is a Lieutenant while Jethro is a Lance Corporal at this juncture. Military mistakes are wholly our own, as neither of us have ever served.

If this pairing doesn't suit you, please keep checking back, as many of your favorite characters (including Jethro's four cannon wives, Mac's wife and the various teams) will play an integral part in the universe.

for FFN specifically. Wherever brackets occur, adult content was removed or the story was otherwise revised to fit in with FFN's rules and regs. Please check the unedited version at the following links.

If you'd like to read more of our work, please check out our profile for some links.

And we'd LOVE to know what you think!

Thanks :)

Ange and Bree

November, 1983 Ramstein, West Germany

Mac Taylor stared at the half-drunk scotch in front of him and tried to make the images tramping through his head stop. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see his friends injured, crushed, some dying in his arms. Now that he was healing, the memories wouldn't leave him alone.

He turned toward the door, ignoring the flyboys and locals. They had been welcoming enough, but they weren't marines. And they didn't know what he had been through, what his friends had been through.

Over two hundred good men had died in a terrorist attack, many of them his friends and acquaintances. Some he was directly responsible for. All of them good men. All of them died way too young.

He tossed back the rest of his drink—was this his third? This off-base bar wasn't as an anonymous as he might have liked, but there weren't that many military types here. At least there was that.

Someone slid into the barstool beside him and Mac immediately edged away. Then something about the man seemed familiar and he turned. "Gibbs! What are you doing here? You okay?"

He'd gotten to know the Lance Corporal at Lejeune and they had kept in close contact once they shipped out for Beirut, but had lost touch with him in the wake of the explosion. He hadn't really thought about the other guy since he'd—he'd supposed they'd—arrived here in Germany.

"How bad?" Mac asked the other man softly. Jet wouldn't be here if he hadn't been injured.

"Not as bad as the doctors are making it out to be." Jethro had been looking for his friend since he'd been shipped out to Germany. Before leaving Beirut, he'd heard that Mac had been amongst one of the first groups sent out, but no one knew how badly he had been hurt. Most of the gate sentries had been killed, so he assumed it was bad. As soon as he had been able to get out of bed, he started asking around. Luckily, someone had seen Mac leave base, or else he'd still be searching.

Holding up the cast that covered his left hand and lower arm to show Mac, he flushed. He didn't think it was enough to be shipped out of country, not when he should still be there helping, but he had no choice in the matter. Shannon was relieved that he was safe, but it just didn't sit well with him. "The only good thing about being here instead of there is that I found you, Lieutenant. I was worried when I heard you were being shipped out."

"Can the titles, Gibbs. We're off base, call me Mac. You were worried?" Mac couldn't help smiling briefly. "I took a lot of shrapnel, some in my chest. Lodged in my clavicle, bled like you wouldn't believe, they panicked and shipped me out. I should have stayed and helped." He shook his head and absently rubbed his chest. He had a bunch of stitches and a chunk had been taken out of one of his bones, but he'd be okay. It didn't even hurt that much Even the scrapes and bruises on his face were healing well. He'd been lucky and he knew it. Kevin, Stan, Munroe, Peters…gone.

"How bad is it?" Mac asked. "You have Nurse Ratchett helping you out?" The nurses at the military hospital were overwhelmed and, as a result, the bedside manner was nonexistent. "You're not still holed up or you wouldn't be here. Where do they have ya bunking? I'm in overflow housing near the PX until they send me back. Good group of guys. You should come by sometime or…uh, I mean, if you want."

He gave Jet a long look. His friend's words were stronger than he would have thought and something occurred to him. "Look, Jet. Don't take this the wrong way, but do you want to ditch all of this," he asked, gesturing to their fatigues. "And just go out and be two guys in Germany having fun. No rules, no ranks, no hierarchy. I've got the cash for a hotel, and who knows, we might get lucky. Those West German girls are pretty wild."

Jethro's eyebrows rose and Mac had the uncomfortable feeling that his friend knew some of his closely guarded secrets, the largest one that he wasn't interested in the West German girls at all. He had been harboring lust of a more forbidden nature.

"Getting out of here would be good, although I don't know that I'm up for much fun. I don't want to go back to the base either. I'm not much up for drinking, they pumped me full of pain meds before they turned me loose. I got caught unawares once, I'm not interested in getting so bleary eyed that someone could get the jump on me again." A hotel room, anything other then the depressing barracks back at base sounded like paradise. Jethro hadn't bothered to stick around long enough to get assigned a bunk, but he figured he could get one if he went back.

"Shouldn't I have been worried about you? We were told the worst injuries went in the first day and you were with them. I lost enough friends to not want to lose another, Mac. The only thing that knowing you were already on your way here was that I knew I wouldn't be digging you out from under the rubble."

Mac nodded, understanding what Jet was saying. "I know…I know." His voice went soft and a little blurry and he swallowed down the rest of his drink in a single burning gulp. There was a certain comfort in knowing what the other man was feeling.

"I'll be okay, Jet. It looks worse than it is. Mac opened his shirt and motioned to the bandage over his chest. "Deep, but not really bad…all things considered." Bullshit, he'd almost died, but almost didn't mean shit when he'd been surrounded by guys who had. He stood and motioned to the door. "Let's get out of here, Jet. We'll figure out what to do when we get there. Maybe just…sleep. Get some food or room service. It's too damn depressing this close to the base. I think we both need to forget, even for just one night."

Again, that sounded worse than it was, but Mac just looked away and composed himself.

Pushing away from the bar with his good hand, Jethro followed Mac out onto the street. He quickly checked around them to make sure that they weren't being followed or that there wasn't a hidden danger that he could possibly prevent. Before the bombings, he'd gotten used to the constant vigilance of being a Marine, but now it was a million times worse, bordering on paranoia. "Let's find a room, someplace safe if it's possible, and get room service. The less I'm around people I don't trust, the better. Maybe I'll have one drink, just to take the edge off. Even with the pain meds, I don't see me sleeping well tonight without some help."

Mac nodded. He understood. He hadn't slept without drugs either. They called a cab, going to the nearby city. While Jet skulked around the lobby, Mac got the room and motioned his friend upstairs.

"Brats and beer will be up in a couple hours," he said as he opened the door and tossed the key on the end table. "No television, but I don't think we need that." He motioned to the bed, the queen-sized bed. "They didn't have two. We can use it in shifts. You tired now or..."

It was stupid to ask if the macho marine wanted to talk. It sounded so…girly. And stupid given what they'd gone through. Neither of them were the types of guys who wanted their heads shrunk. But Jet looked so fucking haunted.

"What do you need?" It was weak and stupid, but it was all Mac had.

"That's a loaded question if I ever heard one, what I need and what I'm going to get are completely different things right now." The room wasn't fancy, but it was better than some of the places he'd slept since he'd enlisted. "And don't worry about the bed, when you're stuck in a foxhole with three guys twice your size for a week at a time, two people in a queen-size bed is a luxury."

While it was the truth, he hoped that Mac didn't question it any further. Jethro wanted sleep and a little human contact, something to remind him that he had managed to survive, against the odds. "I don't know what I want or what I need right now, Mac, I just want the rest of the world to go away for a little while, maybe for things to settle back down again before I have to face it again."

"Me too," Mac replied quietly. He knew what Jet was feeling, probably more than anyone else. They understood each other. He wasn't going to ask any more questions. He'd just accept whatever the other man was able to give.

He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, then yanked off his boots and pants. Stretching out fully on the bed, he laid on Jet's right side, almost but not quite touching. "You need help getting your clothes off, Jet?"

Jethro had been cursing the cast on his arm that was making it difficult to unbutton his own shirt. He wouldn't have asked for help, but if Mac was offering, he wasn't going to turn him down. "I haven't mastered the art of one-armed buttoning yet. If you wouldn't mind helping a friend out, I'd really appreciate it. I wasn't able to find a change of clothes when I got here, so I'm ready to burn these about now."

They did reek, of blood and…death and he suddenly couldn't wait to get them off his friend. He pulled the shirt off, maneuvering it around the cast and took the boots and pants off too. Even the underwear went. As soon as Jet's clothes were tossed in the far corner of the room, Mac peeled down the sheet and Jet obediently slid underneath it. Mac collapsed back on top of it, lying on his side, facing Jet.

It was a bit awkward, him only in his boxers and Jet in nothing, but he was too tired to think about anything serious right now. He grabbed the phone and cancelled the room service order. He could place one later.

"That better?" Mac asked, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Much, but remind me that when we wake up, I need a shower. And to talk to someone downstairs to see if I can't get a pair of sweats and a t-shirt brought up." Trying to get comfortable with all the bumps and scratches that he had was difficult, but it seemed as if the meds had gone into overdrive as soon as Jethro lay down and that sleep might just be possible.

If he had the energy to think, he might have realized it was strange to be in bed with another man naked, but the thought barely crossed his mind. Living in tight quarters with up to thirty other men meant you got used to being around guys in all state of undress. Something to think about for later, but now he wanted the comfort that sleep could bring. Closing his eyes, he could feel himself slipping, but wanted to thank Mac for the suggestion and for getting all of this for them. "You didn't have to do all this, I could have gone back to base. But I appreciate that you did. I needed to not be there tonight."

"Neither of us did, Jet." He brought a shaking hand to his friend's head, stroking his hair slowly, trying to soothe them both. Without thinking too hard, Mac shifted, lifting Jet's right hand up and snuggling under the arm. He couldn't explain why he needed this, but it was helping.

Jet's sleepy eyes opened and he stared at Mac, a charged look in his eyes. Mac stilled, not quite knowing what Jet would accept and what either of them wanted.

It surprised him how comfortable he was with the action of his friend. With anyone else, he would have moved away, but with Mac it seemed almost natural. Turning gingerly, to offer as much comfort as he could, he pulled Mac in towards him. It was slow, in deference to both of their injuries, but finally he could feel his friend's heartbeat. It was comforting. "Get some sleep, Sir, this isn't something that we can expect to last too long. We're going to have to report back at some time or have the MPs looking for us."

Mac nodded his head, snuggling in even closer, breathing onto Jet's cheek, feeling the rasp of his stubble. His mouth was slightly open and his arm went to Jethro's left shoulder, massaging muscles tense from the weight of the cast.

"These gotta be all locked up," he said, working the shoulder in gentle motions. Just touching another human and being this close to live warm skin was doing amazing things for him. He lifted his head up, needing to thank Jet. He couldn't have been thinking clearly, because all of a sudden his mouth was on the other man's and he was kissing him—a guy! A fellow soldier. And it was incredible! Jethro didn't respond to the kiss, but he didn't tense up, which was something. Maybe Mac wasn't going to get his ass kicked.

Mac broke away, looking away at the wall, expecting to be pushed away. "I don't know why that happened. I…the bombing fucked me up."

Using his good hand, Jethro covered Mac's mouth, not wanting to hear what a mistake that had just been. If the bombing had fucked his friend up enough to risk everything to kiss a man, then it had fucked him up enough to have thoroughly enjoyed it. "Don't apologize, it's a sign of weakness. And you are not a weak man. If you apologized, then I'd have to do the same for doing this."

Leaning in, he replaced his hand with his lips, this time trying to keep his eyes open to watch Mac's reaction to the kiss. When he wasn't pushed away, Jethro deepened it, caressing his friend's face, waiting to see if he would open up and allow a gentle exploration.

Mac groaned, allowed Jethro to really capture his mouth, allowing Jethro's tongue to plunge into his mouth. Jethro's hand was at the base of his throat and he rose over Mac, propping his arm in the pillow near Mac's head.

The hardness that thrust under the confinement of the sheet was hard, hot, heavy. Mac grasped it through the sheet, feeling the telltale dampness . He stroked up and down, not thinking, just experiencing.

"God, you feel good…" He was going to take everything Jethro offered and let him set the pace and rules.

Trying to slow down, Jethro pulled back a little to just look at the man in bed with him. He hadn't wanted to slow down at all, but his brain was screaming at him. This was another marine, an officer, not some nameless man he'd gotten a blow job from in a bar in Kansas. He damn well needed to make sure that this was what Mac wanted and not just a reaction to everything that had gone on the last week.

"You feel so good and I want to continue. But I need to know you want this, Mac. You know as well as I do that there is no tolerance for this in the corps. I'm not going to force you to do anything, and spend the rest of my life worrying that you're going to change your mind and come back and ruin both our careers."

"Fuck no, Jet. I want this. I want you. No regrets, no second guessing." Mac pulled the other man's head down, devouring his mouth, fucking it with his tongue. He yanked the sheet down, loving the feel of Jet's body.

"On your back. Don't hurt your arm." While he twisted around, Mac reared up and skinned off his underwear, climbing back on top of Jethro. The other man's legs strained under him and Mac wrapped a fist around them both, pressing himself against Jet. They were evenly matched, .

Mac hovered, pressing close, reveling in the rightness of this. He lowered his head again, sucking on Jethro's lower lip, nipping lightly. Reaching down for Jethro's free hand, he pulled it up and over the other man's head until they were straining against each other, kissing deeply.

Mac had never acted on his attraction for another guy before. It was dangerous—even deadly—to show interest in a fellow soldier. But with Jet here and now, he could be himself for the very first time.

"You're like a drug. I want to drown in you. Tell me how far you want this to go, what you want. All I want is you, however you want it. You have the most expressive eyes. I could forget how to breathe when looking into them."

Mac wanted to ask Jet to be his first, but he didn't know how to, and if his lack of experience would be a turn on or turn off.

"This is already further then I've ever been, Mac, and you feel so good." Flexing his captured hand, Jethro tried to get free so he could touch back, try to make Mac feel as good as he did right now, but he was held tight. It was almost liberating being held like that and unable to move, but it didn't stop the need of wanting to touch.

"I want to feel you, I want to make you moan like you've made me. I want the full experience, not just watching like I do now. I just need to feel something right now and I need you like I need oxygen. Maybe more right at this moment."

"Me…too," Mac admitted, releasing Jet's hand. "Touch wherever you want. God knows I'm gonna take my fill of your skin." Mac loved the differences in their bodies, Jet slightly taller but more stocky, larger pectoral muscles, probably from his shooting career.

"I need you too, not just anyone. You. I want to lose it to you."

There was so much to touch, and it was difficult to decide where to start. Being one handed was complicating matters even more. Raking his hand over Mac's side, trying not to scratch him and cause any further damage. It was exciting to know that he could be rougher with Mac than he felt comfortable being with a woman. That thought alone was enough to keep his hand in constant motion, scratching and pushing skin to the point of bruising. Mac only moaned, but not in a way that indicated that he was being hurt.

"I want to be in you, I just don't know if I'm going to be move like I need to. This cast is killing me."

"I can control the movement, Jet." Mac grabbed some complimentary hand lotion and before sinking down on him so slowly, forcing himself open a millimeter at a time. "I never…this is so incredible. He stilled, adjusting to the awesome feelings, the way his entire body came alive, every nerve ending sending pleasure to him.

He started moving slowly, riding Jet in long sensuous motions. "How does it feel for you?" he managed. "I can't even explain how good this is."

Stopping the slow movement that was driving him crazy, Jethro tried to sit up without dislodging his lover. He wanted to be able to explore, and lying the way he was, it wasn't possible. Thankful that Mac realized what he was doing and made it possible to prop himself up against the headboard of the bed. That was much better and gave him full access to the man riding him. "Never felt anything like it, I'm pretty sure I died in that blast, and you're my heaven. I must have been one hell of a good boy, if this is my end reward."

Wanting to make this as spectacular for his partner as it was for him, Jethro used his good hand to caress Mac. Matching the pace that Mac had set, he was pretty sure that heaven couldn't possibly feel like this. "Do you feel it? It doesn't seem right, to feel so alive."

Mac moaned low when Jet started shifting. Every movement sent new ripples through his body. They were in a half sitting position now, Jet's hand all over him .

"Heaven is where your dreams are met, isn't it? Because…Oh God, Jet. This is better than I could have ever imagined." Mac leaned in close, kissing the man gently, tenderly, holding onto the headboard with one hand, but stroking Jet's face with the other.

"I feel it. Maybe we're meant to be alive for this moment. Maybe…" There were a lot of maybes, but he dared not voice them all. Not when they'd just escaped death.

Then Jet's cock started rubbing at a place deep inside that jolted him to the core. A growl came up from his gut, exploding .He squeezed Jet, hoping to milk his own orgasm out, riding the other manharder.

There was still a wild excitement burning at the base of Mac's spine and he wasn't softening either. He rested his head against Jet's, kissing his mouth, running his hands along the other man's throat and chest, then reaching back to cup Jet.

He could fall in love with this guy and that scared him.

"Maybe you're right. We're meant to be here, for one another right now. Or maybe this is heaven and you're right, or dreams have met. Whatever it is, I don't want to let it go just yet. I've got the time if you do." Jethro's voice was raspy, strained, sexy.

"I do," Mac replied in a gentle tone of voice, looking down at the other man. "But you need me to get you over the edge. I need to feel you . And then I'm going to curl around you and we're both going to feel safe…and sleep. Then, I can afford this place for a few days."

He smoothed Jethro's dark hair back. "Are they going to send you home for some R&R or keep you here? You've got to be due a few weeks off while that arm heals. Let's do something crazy." Mac started moving faster , punctuating his words with needy sounds.

"Let's go away somewhere. England, or France, or Scandinavia or something. Hang out…yeah. Get to…mmm…know each other."

Jethro was stroking his prostate again and Mac's need was building. "I'm going to come again, Jet. My God…you're good."

"Only as good as who I'm with, and if how I'm feeling right now is any indication, you're damn good yourself."

Jethro was going to have at least six weeks off to recuperate. He had planned on going back to his place in DC and letting Shannon take care of him while he recovered, but running away with Mac sounded like an even better idea. That way, he wouldn't have to listen to Shan wail about him leaving her yet again, even though there was no commitment there.

"Do you have your heart set on England or Scandinavia? I have a place in West Virginia that no one will find us at. Its a rustic cabin, set out in the woods, but I have done a little work so there's at least indoor plumbing. We'll have to pick up some lanterns, because electricity just isn't possible up there. It belonged to my parents, and I got it when they died. No one but my family knows about it. We don't have to worry or watch our backs."

Mac arched an eyebrow at the thought of West Virginia, being alone, no distractions. "You've got a deal, my friend. West Virginia it is." He rocked harder and faster on his lover, incapable of thought as he topped the edge again. "My God, Jet…" It was all he could get out, stars exploding behind his eyes.

His exhausted body wanted to relax, but he wasn't about to do that before Jethro came. "How is it that you have so much staying power? You can't be much older than me, and yet I've come twice and you haven't yet."

He tightened every muscle and moved slower, taking Jethro deeper. "Unless I'm not doing this right. Would hate to think that I'm failing my lover, who keeps doing crazy things to my body."

"Got to make sure my partner is well taken care of first. My mother tried to raise me a gentleman." Jethro grinned, knowing that wasn't really true, but he'd never had any complaints before. But generally he was doing all the work, and that wasn't the case tonight. Using the momentum Mac already had, he thrust harder, letting it be about him, and not anyone else's pleasure.

"You're so good, so tight. I want to stay like this all night." Letting go. Jethro had never felt anything close to what he was feeling with Mac. Not with any woman, not with the boys at the bar, who were desperate for any attention. "You're so damn perfect, no one better then you, Mac."

"You are." Something had changed, Jethro had let go of something deep inside him. "You are incredible, Jet. Give me all you've got. I can take it. I want it."

He collapsed forward, kissing the man deeply, staring into his eyes. He wanted to see his lover's expressive eyes when he completely let himself go.

"I'm here, babe. Right here. Right here, love." Mac growled and took Jet's good hand. "I'm getting hard again. You're incredible, Jet. You're mine for as long as you want me."

"Let's start with six weeks, see where it goes from there." Jethro would keep Mac forever if he could. "But you know what they say, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Mac." He could only imagine where this friendship was going to take them. Wherever it was, it was going to be fantastic.

"From the ashes came this. Let's see where life takes us. Together." Mac rode the other man to yet another orgasm, the first night of many he wanted to spend with him.


End file.
